


Bait Me and I'll Pin You Down

by keep_waking_up



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Barebacking, Dirty Talk, Hate Sex, M/M, Rough Sex, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-10
Updated: 2013-12-10
Packaged: 2018-01-04 05:54:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1077334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keep_waking_up/pseuds/keep_waking_up
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles are two of the best pages in the kingdom.  But for someone like Jared, who wants to be Harsland’s greatest knight, being ‘one of the best’ isn’t enough.  And it doesn’t help that Ackles is an arrogant asshole who needs to be put in his place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bait Me and I'll Pin You Down

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dragonspell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonspell/gifts).



> Written for dragonspell for spn-j2-xmas. She wanted hate!sex and mentioned J2 as knights in another prompt. That became this.

“Boys, boys!”

There are hands scrabbling against his body, trying to pull him away from the other page. Still, Jared fights against them, trying to get in one more hit. His fist swings out, but it’s caught, and he’s yanked back. The boy—who he had just managed to get beneath him before he had been pulled away—scrambles to his feet and lunges after him, but someone else grabs onto him as well.

It takes them both a while before they stop struggling, and they only stop then because Sir Olsson, Master of the Pages and Squires, is standing before them, scowling with disapproval. With a stern gaze, he looks them both over, breath huffing in and out of his nostrils. Jared refuses to lower his head even though his heart is pounding in his chest. 

“Page Padalecki, Page Ackles.” The man’s voice rings through the room, gravelly and foreboding. Sir Olsson crosses his thick arms—thicker than Jared could ever dream of his being—over his chest. Jared gazes with envy at the bulging muscle. He could’ve pounded Ackles into the ground if he had muscle like that. “It is forbidden for pages to fight one another, except in training, and especially not in such an undignified manner.” He pauses, narrowing his dark eyes. “What do you have to say for yourselves?”

This time, Jared does duck his head, if only to glare at the ground. He can see Ackles doing something similar across from him, except he has a black-eye. It’s not that much of a triumph, really, because Jared is unsure if his ribs will ever recover from Ackles’s sharp elbows, and he’s pretty sure half his hair has been ripped out. Even though he’d love to get Ackles in trouble, a true knight doesn’t tattle. As long as Ackles keeps quiet, he will too.

Even though he couldn’t have expected anything else, Sir Olsson’s frown deepens and he lets out a grunt of disapproval. “Fine,” he says, firm and definite. “Double the homework for both of you for the next two weeks, and extra chores as well.” Jared can barely keep from bursting into speech from horror. He already has a hard enough time getting all his classwork done— “And,” Sir Olsson adds significantly, “I’ll be writing to both of your fathers.” 

Jared can just imagine the letter his father will send in return. He shrinks in on himself a little. His only consolation is that Ackles looks just as frightened as he does.

 

*

 

They’re the two best pages in the kingdom, there’s no denying that. People talk about them and what great knights they’re going to be, already. After all, no one loves gossip more than courtiers, and a couple of pages that Sir Olsson brags are the best he’s had in years—one a second-generation noble, and one from a family wealthy enough to rival the King—is more than enough to set the court talking. But Jared hates it, even though they’re praising him. He doesn’t want to be one of the best knights in the Harsland; he wants to be the best knight. Unfortunately, Jensen Ackles seems to have similar plans.

Every day and in every class, they’re paired together. Jared seethes with every blow Ackles lands on him with their dull practice swords, every shot he fires straighter. Ackles’s smug smiles whenever he beats Jared only fuel Jared to work harder. He practices his swordplay at dawn every morning, even though his manservant, Steve, rolls his eyes. 

But no matter how long and hard he practices, Ackles is always there, matching him stroke for stroke. If he wins one duel, Ackles will win the next. All the teachers talk about how well-matched they are, how talented. Jared loathes every moment of it.

Both their records are clear. They’re perfect, honorable pages—except for the fistfights they embroil themselves in. Sometimes it’ll just be too much—Ackles will say something snide about Jared’s family and their relatively new status as nobility, and Jared won’t be able to let it go without retaliation. He knows he instills the same fury in Ackles whenever he talks about Ackles’s father, who is the black sheep of his family. They can’t seem to keep themselves focused and aloof when they’re near one another.

Over the years, as they age, they learn how to keep their fights a secret. Jared saves his goading for when he runs into Ackles in some dark corridor, and then he’ll let it all loose. They brawl in shadowed corners and deserted training rooms, where no one will know. They leave bruises in places covered by clothing, and where the other pages won’t aim when they attend their physical training.

 

*

 

When they turn fifteen, they begin a new type of competition. They’re going to become squires soon, along with the rest of the pages their age. Jared knows Ackles is gunning for the same knight-master as he is—Sir Amell, Commander of the King’s Army and one of the best knights of their time. The past four years as pages was all just preparation for Jared to became Sir Amell’s squire. It’s all he has wanted since he was a young boy, marveling over the man’s prowess in the King’s tournaments, and he won’t let Ackles get in his way.

The King proclaims them squires on a Wednesday. Jared is forced to stand next to Ackles, their shoulders brushing up against each other. He stands as tall as he can, displaying every finger-width of height he has over Ackles, all two of them. Staring out into the audience of nobility, Jared sees Sir Amell in the back of the room, and pulls his shoulders back even further. This time, he’s going to beat Ackles for sure.

But later that evening, word comes back to the squire’s wing that Sir Amell has asked Ackles to be his squire, and that they’ll be leaving the next day. The squires send worried glances Jared’s way as he struggles to hide his disappointment, tightening his lips and scowling at anyone who dares so much as to look at him.

When all the other pages have gone to bed, he enters Ackles’s room without knocking. The other boy is packing and his manservant, Chris, is nowhere to be found. Jared leans against the closed door, sneering at Ackles. “You know he only asked you because your grandfather paid him to, right?”

Ackles bares his teeth in a snarl. “You know he didn’t ask you because you’re such a pathetic, scrawny nobody, right?” Ackles tosses his head and smirks at Jared. “He chose me because he knows what makes a real knight.”

Jared raises an eyebrow, refuses to be goaded. He’s gonna hurt Ackles. He’s gonna win just this once. “I saw your grandfather handing him a purse full of gold coins earlier this evening.” It’s a lie, but Jared sees Ackles’s self-assured smugness falter. He moves forward, pushing off the wall and stalking closer to the other squire. “And I asked myself, why would the richest man in the kingdom, save the King, give money to the Commander of the King’s Army? And then he asked you to be his squire.” Jared puts on a mock-pitying face. “I guess the money was incentive enough for Sir Amell. Although... maybe your grandfather said he could fuck you too. I’m not quite sure money would be enough to convince him to take you on otherwise.”

Blanching white, Ackles storms away from his place near the bed to stand squarely before Jared. “You shut your mouth, Padalecki,” he hisses. “I’m going to be a far better knight than you. Sir Amell knows talent when he sees it, and he didn’t see it in you. I won. Get over yourself.”

Jared takes a step farther forward, pulling himself up to loom over Ackles. Even though Jared has the clear physical advantage, Jensen doesn’t even bother looking scared, just white and furious, every ugly little freckle on his skin standing out. “You haven’t won anything,” Jared growls in return. “I’m the better knight, and I’ll prove it. The next time we see each other, I’ll beat you once and for all. And then we’ll know who the true knight is.”

A muscle jumps in Ackles’s jaw, and his lips curl up in a fierce sneer. “I guess we will, Padalecki. Good luck. You’ll need all it you can get.”

The temptation to hit Ackles’s disgustingly pretty face rises, and Jared only overcomes it by forcing himself to push the other boy away. The boy only stumbles a little, but it’s enough to let Jared smirk as he strolls out. “Have fun being Amell’s whore,” he spits out, his last little hit, and then he’s slamming the door shut behind him. 

 

*

 

He doesn’t see Ackles again until a full two years later. He spends that time as squire apprenticed to Sir Momoa, Commander of the King’s Riders. They ride across Harsland in a way the army doesn’t, battling any foe that threatens the people. Jared fights griffins, ghouls, and ordinary raiders as well. He camps out in the woods, learns bawdry songs, and even explores the curves of a women’s bodies. He tries his hand at a few male bodies too, and discovers he enjoys those just as much. He thinks of Ackles a few times, when the infrequent reports from the Army arrive. Sir Momoa grumbles every time they receive word, because apparently he has a feud with Sir Amell almost as intense as Jared’s and Ackles’s.

Jared tells Sir Momoa about Ackles one night, after they’ve shared a jug of cider. Sir Momoa looks at him shrewdly and laughs. “Tell you what, Jared, I’ll teach you a few tricks. You’ll have that boy on his back with his legs spread in no time.”

Blushing, Jared tries to protest that he just wants to kick Ackles’s ass, not fuck it, but Sir Momoa laughs off his explanations, shaking his head. “I remember the competitiveness of young boys. Once you see him again, you’ll realize exactly what you want and you’ll be glad for what I’ve taught you.”

Sir Momoa teaches him secret little tricks, twists of his hand and sword that will defeat Ackles in no time. He even teaches Jared how to take another man down by hand, with no more than a few swift hits and some wrestling in the mud. Jared practices diligently, and the next time he has a boy in his bed, he doesn’t bother trying to shove away the images of green eyes, freckles, and a fierce scowl.

By the time he turns seventeen, Jared towers over the rest of the King’s Riders. His shoulders are broad as a horse’s, and his biceps are even larger than Sir Olsson’s were. He grows his hair out to brush against his chin, and learns the limits of his own body. When the King summons them to present themselves for Princess Danneel’s official coronation as the King’s heir, Sir Momoa looks at Jared and grins. “You’re ready, boy,” he says, and claps him on the shoulder. “You’ll take your Ackles down just fine.”

Jared rides into the capital buzzing with anticipation. He sees the pages scurrying around, and almost wants to laugh. He’s so far beyond that now. He even catches a few ladies eyeing him, and grins back, winking. He’s strong, he’s confident—he’s a man now. He knows what he wants, and he’s going to get it.

At least, he’s confident until he sees Ackles. Gone is the slightly-too pretty page of his childhood loathing. Ackles, it seems, has become a man as well, not as broad or as tall as Jared, but just as strong in his own way. His jaw looks like the gods themselves chiseled it from stone, offsetting his overly-full lips and wide green eyes. His skin is golden from the heat in the south, where the army had been stationed, and his rear… Jared lets his eyes linger there. Oh yes, he definitely knows what he wants. His childhood adversary may have grown into a man as well, but Jared is still confident. He is going to have Ackles writhing beneath him in no time at all.

Ackles catches sight of him then, and Jared is glad he saw the other first. Ackles is unable to hide his reaction to Jared’s new form, mouth falling slightly open into a small ‘o’ as his eyes venture over Jared’s body. Jared knows he isn’t imagining the hint of heat he sees there, especially not when Ackles snaps his gaze away with pink tinging his cheeks.

When the princess’s ceremony is done, Jared watches Ackles slip out onto the grounds with a hawk-like eye, and moves after him. Sir Momoa catches his arm for a second and smiles. “Remember our training. Do well by me, Jared.” 

Jared nods at him, smirking, before following his quarry into the gardens. 

It’s dark out, and everyone else is still inside, revelling. Jared pauses for a moment as soon as he exits the castle, blinking away the brightness of the indoors. He sees a shadowy figure heading for the pages’ training room and grins. It looks like, for once, he and Ackles have the same idea.

He keeps his hand resting gingerly on his sword as he enters the room. Ackles is standing along the wall, lighting the fourth torch. The other three are already happily blazing, and Jared admires the play of firelight on Ackles’s body. He may hate Ackles with all his heart, but he won’t deny that the gods have granted the man a gorgeous form. One he’s eager to have under him. And around him.

Casting a look over his shoulder, Ackles smirks at him. “Padalecki.”

“Ackles,” Jared replies, civil, except for the sneer in his voice. “So Amell kept you after all.”

Ackles moves away from the wall with a catlike grace. Jensen studies it, sees how Ackles’s teenage movements have shifted into this elegant sway. He appreciates it, momentarily, and wonders idly whether Ackles will still look just as lovely taking his cock. Then Ackles speaks, interrupting his fantasies. “How was your time with second-best?”

Crossing his arms across his chest, Jared grins, and sees the way it sets Ackles off-guard. He is not so easily goaded now. Ackles will have to work a lot harder. “Enlightening. Sir Momoa taught me well. And the Riders are constantly in battle… I almost feel bad about the idea of fighting you now. After all, the army is usually so stagnant and dull,” Jared shrugs his shoulders lightly, chuckling a little bit. “Are you sure you’ll even be able to keep up with me?”

Jared is pleased to see Ackles clenching his teeth. “I think it will be you who will have to worry about keeping up with me. Sir Amell is the best swordsman in the kingdom, you know. He has taught me everything he knows.”

“Who said we were fighting with swords?” Jared cocks an eyebrow, not moving from his assured stance. “Dueling between knights on palace grounds without the permission of his Majesty is against the law, you know. Would you risk the punishment for it?”

Ackles looks flustered at the question. He glances down at the sword belted to his hip, then his eyes turn to the door. “Then we’ll have to leave palace grounds,” he says firmly. “We can battle it out in one of the fields.”

Jared yawns, and watches Ackles’s eyebrows raise at the movement. “And risk mauling each other? There is a reason the King made that law, you know.” Jared knows his lazy, superior tone is getting to Ackles, especially when the man’s hand strays towards his sword like he really just wants to run Jared through.

“The only one mauling anything would be me destroying you,” Ackles mutters, but he nods his head to acknowledge the point. “We’ll use training swords then.”

“Oh come on!” Jared rolls his eyes, and he knows he’s got Ackles right where he wants him when the other boy’s eyes narrow into slits. “Are you too cowardly to fight me like a real man, Ackles? What do we need swords for, unless you’re afraid to use your fists?”

Ackles’s hands ball up, knuckles turning white. “Fist-fighting is undignified and below a knight—”

“And that’s why you always threw yourself at me, fist-first, when we were pages? When did we ever fight one another with swords?” Jared shakes his head. No, this is about you and me, seeing who’s really stronger, more powerful. If you’re too scared for a real fight, then I guess I’ll just leave.” Jared turns, beginning to head for the door.

“I’m not frightened!” Ackles snarls from behind him. Jared is glad his back is to Ackles so he can smirk without changing the man’s mind. Slowly, he turns around and sees that Ackles has pushed the sleeves of his tunic up, baring his lower arms. “I’ll fight you whichever way you want, and I’ll still defeat you.”

“Sure you will,” Jared drawls, pushing his own sleeves up, and settling into fighting position opposite to Ackles. He can’t hide his savage grin, which only makes Ackles scowl harder. “Give it your best shot, Jensen.”

The use of his first name is all it takes. Ackles launches himself at Jared, fist set to collide with his cheek. Jared just smiles wider and dances away. His blood rushes through him. This is what he loves—the fight. Ackles’s face and neck gleam with sweat, and Jared can feel his own hair sticking to his neck. The man had looked good preened and perfect, but Jared thinks he looks even finer disheveled and gasping for air. He can only imagine how sweet he will look hanging off Jared’s cock. He and Ackles dance around each other, lashing out and pulling back. Sometimes they land hits and sometimes they don’t, but when he finally tackles Ackles to the ground, he’s still smiling madly.

They wrestle on the floor, bodies bucking together in just the same way they had six years ago. They hadn’t discovered the winner then, but they would now. 

Ackles is a wild thing against him, all hisses and futile energy. He should recognize that, here, Jared has the edge. Four extra finger-widths and who knows how many more stones make taming Ackles simpler than it had been when they were younger, as did the evenings he’d spent with Momoa learning to wrestle. He has been training and preparing for this for the past years as a page and a squire, and Ackles is getting just a taste of his true skill.

Finally, body aching from the hits the other had landed, he pushes Ackles facedown on the floor. He holds him in place even as the other man thrashes under his weight, and sits on his back to better pin him. Carefully, he lowers his head to whisper in Ackles’s ear, making sure to keep his face far enough away so that Ackles can’t ram his head back into it. “Do you yield, Ackles?”

“Never,” Ackles hisses back, even though he’s clearly been defeated. Still, Ackles struggles, a fighter until the end. “I’ll never cede to you!”

This time, when Jared smiles, it’s ugly. He grabs the back of Ackles’s head and grinds his face into the mats over the cold stone floors, placed there so that the young pages wouldn’t hurt themselves when they fell. He hears the other man gasp, and feels the familiar stirrings of the arousal that has hovered under the surface of his animosity all these years. “Oh, you’ll cede alright,” he murmurs, and his other hand comes down to caress Ackles’s ass.

There’s no surprise in Ackles’s snarl, just renewed struggle. “Won’t spread for you,” Ackles spits. “Won’t ever spread for a nobody like you.”

“But you are spreading,” Jared says, and smirks as he easily knees Ackles’s legs apart and slides between them, pressing his crotch directly against Ackles’s firm, perky ass. “See? Spreading nice and sweet for me.” When Ackles growls beneath him, Jared just laughs, bucking his hips forward once and getting a startled squeak in return. “Please, like you wouldn’t have had me in the same position if you’d won. How were you expecting to get me here after a sword fight, I wonder?” He imagines it and laughs, asking derisively, “Did you think you’d just have to order it and I’d bend over?”

“Would’ve made you,” Ackles mutters, a bit nonsensically. Jared just shrugs. What does it matter? Ackles hadn’t pinned him after all. 

He presses up against Ackles’s rear again, and enjoys the way the man’s struggling feels, that firm ass almost inviting him in with each unintentional roll. “Yeah, keep doing it just like that, sweetheart,” he whispers, and snickers as Ackles stills instantly. He brings his hand down with a smack against Ackles’s rear, and the other man’s body surges into motion again. Jared lets out a loud groan, and laughs again as Ackles involuntarily rocks backward, evidently aroused. Slipping his hand under Ackles’s body, he grabs the rock-hard bulge there, and risks ducking down to chuckle in Ackles’s ear. “Like that, you needy little thing?”

“Fuck you,” Ackles hisses, but his fighting has morphed into a rhythmic sort of rocking, designed to get as much friction from Jared’s hand as possible. Entranced by the other man’s smooth undulations, Jared squeezes his hand periodically, making Ackles let out little choked moans and whimpers. Even when Jared falls into a pattern, Ackles’s hips jerk backwards in surprise with every rub of Jared’s hand. Ackles himself has given up on his attempt to get out from under Jared, simply remaining on his elbows and knees as he rocks back and forth in search on his own pleasure.

“Yeah,” Jared says under his breath, just as the other man’s cries reach a peak. He yanks his hand back, making Jensen whine with displeasure, and drags the tight pants that had been keeping him from his ultimate goal. He rucks up the other man’s tunic for good measure, loving the display of golden skin. He leans down to bite at the line of Ackles’s spine, even as he pulls Jensen’s pants off his bowed legs. “Did you walk around nude?” He murmurs, and watches Ackles stiffen as he remembers exactly where he is and who he is with. Tightening his arms around the other man’s waist, Jared slides his lips across that smooth, freckled skin. “You’re golden all over; did you walk around? Give those army men a show? Tease them with the sight of your pretty little ass—”

Ackles’s hands claw at the padding beneath them even as his ass cants upward, waiting for Jared’s descending mouth to reach it. “Didn’t. Not a whore,” he manages to gasp out, before Jared fastens his teeth on one plump, rounded cheek and bites down.

Jensen lets out a sound like a female cat in the middle of mating—angry, wounded, and turned on all at once. His whole body bucks, trying to dislodge Jared’s teeth, but Jared holds on, only pulling away once he’s sure that Ackles will have a splendid bruise to remember him by. Then he pulls Jensen’s squirming body back with a swift tug of his arms and brings a hand up to those perfectly-parted pink lips. “Suck,” he commands, and when Ackles opens his mouth to object, Jared simply shoves his fingers in.

He’d been slightly worried about Ackles biting, but all the man does is turn his head to glare at him, before setting to work on his fingers. Jensen sucks like he does everything else—with furious determination and unwitting sensuality. Jared breathes in his scent and hisses filth into his ears. “Would’ve opened you up on my tongue, but I knew you’d miss my voice. Would’ve missed me telling you how pretty you are, under me like this. Opening up so well for my fingers. Just made for this, weren’t you? The gods surely didn’t intend for something as pretty as you to be a knight. No, they wanted you right here, on your hands and knees for me, taking it—”

With some tricky movement of his tongue, Ackles forces Jared’s fingers out of his mouth with a disgusted noise. “Wasn’t made for this, and definitely wasn’t made for you.” Jared opens his mouth to retort, but Jensen cuts him off with a teasing undulation of his lower body. “Just fuck me, Padalecki.”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Jared drawls, and brings two spit-slicked fingers back to circle around Jensen’s hole. “I’m not sure though. Maybe I want you really begging for it…”

“I’m not going to beg,” Ackles spits over his shoulder, and his eyes are green fire. “You won, so you can fuck me this once. But next time, I’m going to have you on your stomach, ass in the air for me, just you wait—”

Flushing with fury, Jared slams two fingers into Ackles’s ass withpit any warning. The man lets out a startled cry, whole body clamping down around Jared’s fingers. Without waiting, Jared begins pistoning his fingers in and out, growling, “You’ll never get me like this. Never let you fuck me. No, you’re gonna be on your knees for me for the rest of our lives. Always going to have you like this—”

He must hit something inside Jensen, because the man tenses in a different sort of way, head thrown back so Jared can see the way that mouth falls open into an obscene ‘o’. “Jared!” He whimpers, thrusting his ass back and begging without words for more. Jared relishes the sound of his name in the other’s mouth, forgetting that he should find it insulting. 

Suddenly, he can’t wait anymore. He pulls his fingers out and wipes them on his pants before pulling his dick out. He gives his cock a few pumps, smearing precome over the shaft. With one hand, he grips the sharp line of Jensen’s hipbone as the other guides his cock inside that tiny little hole.

They both groan, even though Jared’s length is barely inside of Jensen. Despite what he’d said earlier, Jared can tell Jensen is a virgin, at least in this way, through the awkward set of his hips and the tension in his shoulders. For a moment, he feels bad about taking the other man with only spit and precome to ease the way. But he quickly shrugs it off as Jensen shifts backward, taking him in further.

He struggles to catalogue every moment as he pushes all the way inside his rival. Jensen is letting out huge, heaving breaths, like he’s exerting himself to take Jared’s cock. When Jared’s finally fully sheathed, he holds there for a moment. He has to resist the urge to nuzzle into Jensen’s neck or kiss him or some other absurd notion. Instead, he rears back and fucks back in with a violence he’s held inside since he was eleven.

Jensen lets out a little cry that sounds almost wounded as Jared begins to fuck him, but Jared knows he’s not hurting the other squire, for soon enough, Jensen is rocking his hips back, canting his ass up so he can take more. That delicious ass is bouncing with the force of his thrusts, and Jared slaps it lightly a few more times, just because he can. Also because of the whorish moans Jensen lets out whenever he does, which Jared particular enjoys.

He’d always known that taking his enemy down like this would be satisfying, but he’d never imagined Ackles being quite this tight or quite this hungry for his cock. As much as Jensen may try and deny it, hissing out how much he loathes Jared and how much he hates what they’re doing, his hard leaking cock and sluttish noises don’t lie. “You really are made for this,” Jared gasps, and slams in even harder. “God, I love you like this.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Jensen gasps out, and then lets out a high-pitched whine. Jared’s eyes widen with amazement as Jensen’s channel ripples around him, and the man comes, untouched, against the floor mats.

The streaks of white are obvious in the darkness. Jared stares for a moment, as Jensen’s body goes liquid around him, and then he surges back into movement. He fucks Jensen like he’s never going to again, like he can somehow leave a mark inside the man, a branding. “Hate you,” he groans, “So damn good at this.” Jensen just lays there, chest heaving, but those green eyes stare over his shoulder and look up at Jared with an unexpected vulnerability.

Crushing Jensen against him, Jared comes, spilling freely into the other man’s body.

They pant together for a few moments, and then Jared lets his body pull away and slide to the side. They both hiss as he pulls out of Jensen’s body, and he lands with a thump on the mats beside the other man. He takes a moment to survey his handiwork as Jensen inspects his rear. There are marks from his lips and from his teeth, and Jensen’s whole body is rubbed red from the friction against the floor mats. Jared grins as he looks at Jensen’s lips, bitten a bright cherry red, and thinks he’d like to have them the next time they duel.

 

*

 

A year later, they are knighted. Once again, Jared is forced to stand next to Jensen, but this time, his body vibrates with an entirely different sort of energy. 

In the late hours of the night, he slips out of his new quarters and wanders down to the pages’ training room. The torches are already lit, and another man awaits him in the center of the room.

Jensen’s fierce grin flashes white even in the yellow light. Jared grins right back, feeling mad with the anticipation. “Are you ready to be had again, Ackles?” He taunts, and settles into a fighting stance.

Jensen’s smile does not slip. “Since when have you ever beat me twice in a row, Padalecki?”

As the other man runs forward, Jared thinks that, perhaps, it is time for that to change.


End file.
